


We Looked Like Giants

by sawuhs



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-22
Updated: 2012-04-22
Packaged: 2017-11-04 02:24:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/388647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sawuhs/pseuds/sawuhs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A song-fic in which Tony and Loki have a hidden relationship which is eventually found out, and, well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Looked Like Giants

**Author's Note:**

> I wished I owned Avengers (and in this case, We Looked Like Giants by Death Cab for Cutie, or Sun Goes Down by David Jordan), but we all know better.

**God bless the daylight, the sugary smell of springtime**

The way Tony held out his palm towards the sun allowed him to see the bright red glow of his blood and skin, and this made him smile. Humans were curious beings that Tony never wanted to (does) understand, and this didn’t matter to him. It didn’t matter because right now, he’s lying on a plains somewhere, and everyone else doesn’t matter.

Just like that, he turns his hand so that all he sees is his thumb, his index finger, and the middle one peeking out from behind it. Next to him (and on his shoulder), a god whines softly, not welcoming the sunlight that kisses his sleeping face. With that, Tony turns his palm towards the sky again just for a minute (fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty), and he spreads his fingers open slowly, the rays of the sun stream past his fingers, and the eyes of a certain god flutter open almost unwillingly.

 _You could have woken me up in a more conventional method, Anthony,_ says he, turning to hide his face in the chest of the superhero, and Tony smiles, says,  _I can’t hold my hand up for you forever,_ and Loki says,  _yes, you can, you’d do anything for me,_  and Tony drops his smile slowly because he knows it’s true.

And Tony knows Loki knows this too from the way he gets on his knees over Tony, one hand grasping cropped hair, the other pressing into the grass, and he purrs like a cat preying on his prize, and leans down to Tony’s lips, then…

This, it’s just a distant memory now.

**Remembering when you were mine**

“Why are we here again?” asks Tony, purple shades over his eyes, one hand in his suit pocket, the other-

“I fancied myself a cup of coffee, and brother did say that this place serves the best coffee,” is Loki’s reply, his grin ever so full of mischief, the kind of grin that makes Tony bite his cheek because he doesn’t know if he should believe Loki, if Loki’s lying.

He pulls down his sunglasses so that he can see what’s before him clearly, so that he can look at the quaint shop that Loki’s pointing at. Still, he doesn’t see the need to come all the way here where there was barely anybody around to hide amongst. And a man like Tony with a chest that glows, even layers upon layers doesn’t hide it quite so well sometimes. And a man like Tony, he’s easy to recognize. But still, he can try. But  _still_ , he doesn’t see the need to come all the way here when you can get perfectly decent coffee anywhere.

“They won’t recognize you,” says Loki, as his green, green eyes catches sight of the worry in Tony’s brown eyes. So Tony pushes the sunglasses back up to the brink of his nose and breathes out a sigh, says, “That’s what you say.”

And Loki with his grin like a fox, he leans in to Tony’s ear, (and his hand-), and he whispers to Tony, “That’s what my magic says, love.”

What they both share is a wicked smile as they stand in the corner of the town pressed closely to each other (hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder), Tony with a hand in his pocket, Loki with a hand tugging at his scarf, and their other hands… They’re clasped tightly, fingers woven and moulded perfectly together (for each other) behind them. Spring never felt better ( _colder_ ).

**In a still suburban town**

**When every Thursday, I’d brave all those mountain passes**

Pepper tells Tony that he can’t keep doing this, that Stark Enterprises needs him around for meetings, and Tony says,  _you know that I don’t work on this day every week, I haven’t been for months now,_  and Pepper glares at him because she can (because CEOs can do that), and Tony says again,  _and since you know that, I don’t know why you insist on scheduling meetings like that._

And Pepper, she’s doing it only because she’s worried about Tony, because Tony won’t tell anyone what he’s up to, and Tony won’t let anyone follow him, not even SHIELD, he knows every shortcut in the world he can to lose whoever’s following him (JARVIS knows to do things like that thanks to Tony), never has tracking devices on himself (because Tony knows one when he spots one), and he makes his way to that same little hill where he knows Loki is waiting.

**And you’d skip your early classes**

That day when Tony arrives at the hill, it’s five in the morning, and the autumn chill feels just right (to Tony), and he arrives to find Loki spread out on a typical red-and-white checked picnic blanket, and on it, (besides Loki, of course) is a bottle of wine (sparkling) and two glasses, and Tony wonders what the occasion is.

He does ask Loki later, when he’s at the top of the hill and has been welcomed with a kiss, and Loki laughs the laugh he laughs when he’s amused and says, “We’re celebrating us, darling. But do we even need a reason to celebrate?”

And Tony loves how they can waltz to the sound of nothing as the sun starts to paint them long shadows until they’re tired and back on the red and white again with their clothes stripped and gone, and there’s a tongue tip dragging up the length of Tony’s cock to where Loki’s fingers are so carefully curled, and there’s Tony swiping his nails across the depth of Loki’s collarbone…

**And we’d learn how our bodies work**

**Goddamn the black night with all its foul temptation**

Superheroes and supervillains aren’t supposed to get along, but that’s a story everyone knows, even if you take out the super, even if you just say ‘the good’ and ‘the bad’. But they do go together, too awfully well, like how opposite colours complement each other, like sweet and bitter blending just right, like-

How Tony shouldn’t be grinning as if his lips has been torn up his jaws and from ear to ear when he feels Loki sending bolts that dent his armor and makes JARVIS tell him that his shields are going down in percentage, that he’s going to have trouble with the next repulsor ray he charges up, that it will put his shields on critical, that his battery cannot hold him up, that he was going to lose this fight, that Loki was going to kill him if he keeps this up.

And it seems that even robots can be wrong sometimes (but Tony blames himself), because robots can only function on the data they’re provided, because at the end of the day, people and things only know what they’re told and find out, and Tony and Loki’s story is something only they know.

**I’ve always become what I hated**

Which is why Tony is allowed the time to charge up his repulsor and Loki can pretend that he almost takes the hit by vanishing the millisecond before it hits him, which is why they can put up a façade, which is why everyone can believe that they’re enemies, before Loki decides that it’s fun to magic away Tony’s helmet and float down behind him, hands cradling perfectly around Loki’s cheeks, and they both disappear (because Loki does what he want) to their rendezvous, to where Tony proceeds to turn around to meet Loki’s lips, to where Tony connects his gloved fist into Loki’s jaw, to where Loki laughs because it’s funny, to where Loki returns his punches and dents more of his armor, to where they are in love and they fight, to where the stars and moon and Tony’s arc reactor and Loki’s magic are the only things that shows that they exist.

**When I was with you then**

**We looked like giants in the back of my grey subcompact**

_You’re not supposed to be here,_ says Tony, when he first catches the scent of Loki, when he first feels the weight descending on his body, when he stares at Loki with lack-lustre eyes, when he wakes up from a sleep he didn’t have. And Loki, with a hand pressed over the arc reactor (fingernails making curved outlines beside the circle), rays of blue light slipping past his open fingers, odd patches of blue light playing on his features, blue light trying to show what he really is, Loki says,  _I’ll be where I want to be._

Tony laughs, because,  _you’ve said something like that before, Loki, don’t be boring,_ but Loki doesn’t laugh because he’s already busying his mouth on a barely exposed collarbone (bruising, burning), because he’s already busying his hands with Tony’s pants (branding, claiming), because he knows Tony knows that he’ll pay for mocking him.

**Fumbling to make contact**

When the car horn blares at the arch of Loki’s back, shoulder blades digging into the centre of the steering wheel, they both giggle after they are past their shock and Tony tries to hush Loki by fumbling a finger onto Loki’s lips, gently scolding him, “Shhh, they’ll hear us!”, and Loki laughs out loud, because it’s funny, and he barks, utterly amused, “Really? The sound of the car horns, and instead you try to keep me quiet when I laugh? You are a funny mortal, son of Stark.”

But what Tony does is push the car seat down so they can crawl to the back, Loki’s palms balancing himself on Tony’s chest, both placed right next to the arc reactor ( _is this an obsession I have with you, Tony? I could kill you just like that_ ), cupping, pressing, squeezing, and he likes how Tony moans in pain (pleasure), and he likes how Tony raises his hips higher and higher.

**As the others slept inside**

**And together there in a shroud of frost, the mountain air**

There are always times when Tony loses control, and Loki, he puts up with that, but that’s only because there are also times when Loki also loses control, and Tony, he puts up with that, and because it takes one to know one, people like that are meant for each other ( _that’s what they all say_ ), and nothing feels better than knowing that you’re fucked up and someone’s willing to put up with it.

So today, Tony finds Loki at his weakest when Tony shoves Loki against his new glass table, bent over like a common wrench, belts and buckles over (and off) his shoulders and around (and dropping off) his waist and hips, pants still around his knees, shirt pulled up to reveal skin stretched tightly over delicate a perfectly symmetrical rib cage (and Tony loves that, because asymmetrical things bug Tony, and everything can be fixed by calculations, and with reasons like that, Loki is perfect to him, perfect, perfect, perfect,  _let me break your symmetry_ ), face tilted to the side and pressed firmly against the flat of the glass.

And it doesn’t even surprise Tony when he starts to see the blue creep into Loki’s skin.

**Began to pass through every pane of weathered glass**

If you ever decide to ask, Tony can give you a full detailed explanation on why _this_  mist forms on  _this_ glass and how long exactly it takes for it to fill up the entire table that he owns,  _and._  The reason why he knows things like that is because he does know everything about Loki he can study ( _and you ask if you have an obsession with me, Loki_ ) and he’s been making some calculations on their body heat,  _and._

He doesn’t wince when his skin starts to red and burn (it’s not easy, believe him), doesn’t even bat an eyelid. It’s not the first time this has happened, and he isn’t even bothered that he has had his skin (so delicately) ripped off before from the way it clings to Loki’s skin like they’re meant to be one, like they’re never meant to be apart,  _like._  He likes how the blue of his light shines on the blue of Loki’s skin, and he likes how the blue of his light reflects off the red of Loki’s eyes.

**And I held you closer than anyone would ever get**

**Do you remember the J.A.M.C?**

_What an odd choice of music,_ says Tony, when Loki calls for JARVIS and proceeds to push all the paperwork and scraps of metal and  _this_ and  _that_ off Tony’s work desk, and, what he does is crawl up to the table, in which he teases,  _like what you see under this shirt, Tony?,_ and he stands on the table, and starts clapping his foot to the song as it starts, and he beckons Tony onto the table, and he only starts singing at the third verse, and.

 _Free your mind ‘cause we’re gonna break it down,_ sings he, open palms scantily brushing by Tony’s cheeks before,  _shake it make it funky down,_ sings he, before he closes his hands around the back of Tony’s neck and,  _get so high as the toxins in your body,_ sings he, and he has scotch on his lips like,  _are the bass and the drums and the roar, roar, roar,_ sings he, like it’s that one taste of Tony he always wants to be present, and.

Loki doesn’t stop drumming his foot on the table top, and he doesn’t stop pulling Tony along to his dancing, and he doesn’t stop swaying his hips against Tony’s, and he sings,  _we’re right on time, and all is fine, if you lost your senses here have mine, and…_

**And reading aloud from the magazines?**

Tony will never be ashamed to say that he likes how everything that starts between him and Loki can end in sex, and that’s why he doesn’t even mind it when Loki decides to  _gently_ propel Tony off the table into the wall and have Tony in a slight concussion as Loki (later) digs his fingers through Tony’s hair and twists them ( _not_ painfully) round and round his fingers (tug, tug, tug), and Tony doesn’t mind how it actually hurts over and over, and he doesn’t even mind it that he had sunk down against the wall, and he doesn’t mind how he hears the unzipping of Loki’s pants, and he doesn’t mind how  _something_ nudges against his mouth-

And he doesn’t mind how Loki leaves him there with come down the side of his smiling lips, and he doesn’t mind how their sweat reminds him of summer ( _winter_ ).

**I don’t know about you, but I swear on my name they could smell it on me…**

But of course, with all the sound that’s been coming from the workshop is just begging for attention, and attention is what Tony gets when he hears the  _click, click, click_  of Pepper’s heels down the stairs along with the  _clomp, clomp, clomp_ of Fury’s boots, and attention is what Tony gets when they find him in the corner of his workshop beaten and bruised and licking his lips, and attention is what Tony gets when they’re standing before him and asking him, _what in the world happened down here, Tony?,_  even though it just  _seems_ like they know it all, and,  _well._

**I’ve never been good with secrets**

Tony should have known better than to look straight (unblinking, not breathing) into Fury’s eyes when he tells his lie because out of all the people, Tony should be the one to know best that ever since mankind was told that they had a tendency to avoid another person’s eye contact when they tell lies, mankind made themselves  _look_ into another person’s eyes when they’re telling a lie, so, so,  _so._  Tony should have known better than to look straight into Fury’s eye when he tells his lie, but anyone and everyone can try to feign the truth (nobody blames them but them), so it’s okay if Tony wants to try, and try, and try.

Still, it’s no surprise when JARVIS informs Tony later that  _someone_ is trying to breach his security, and it’s no surprise when JARVIS informs Tony later that there are cameras watching him.

**No…**

**And together there in a shroud of frost, the mountain air**

It’s winter when Tony meets Loki today on top of their little hill, and the first question Tony asks Loki isn’t  _why are you all dressed up with your horny, darling?_ (because that  _would_ be funny, he thinks, but then again, he doesn’t really always make good judgements, so), or  _how long has it been?,_ but instead, the first question Tony asks Loki after he steps up behind his green-eyed god (and sometimes goddess), arms so perfectly fitted around a(n) (almost brittle) waist, chin tucked into the hollow of a collarbone, goatee causing a burn that will later come, chest pressed against sharp shoulder blades, (it doesn’t matter that Tony’s shorter), heart resounding into a back that doesn’t belong to him, kisses so teasingly placed, and the first question _Loki_  asks  _Tony_  is,  _my dear, shall we run away tonight?_

**Began to pass through every pane of weathered glass**

It’s still winter when Tony finds himself shivering in his bones to the winter that will always be in Jötunheim, and Tony doesn’t ask why they’re here because he knows that he’s the one who had agreed to this, but that’s fine, it’s all fine, everything will be fine from now on ( _all I ask for is to lie to myself every now and then_ ).

Standing behind Loki, all Tony can think of is how beautiful that exquisite green of a cape is fluttering behind Loki like it’s meant for royalty (because it is), like it’s meant for Loki (because it is), like it’s meant for Tony’s eyes only (but it’s not). Standing behind Loki, Tony’s eyes are wandering to how Loki’s arm is bent behind his back so that both of their hands can be intertwined ( _we were made for each other, love_ ) and he thinks that, he thinks (says) that, “You know, I think we are.” Standing behind Loki, Tony can only gaze upwards when Loki turns around, lips a brilliant smile, eyes a charming (lie), head a tilted innocence, and Tony can only nod because it’s the right thing to do when all Loki asks for is a hug.

And standing behind Loki, Tony takes a step that doesn’t land because he doesn’t want to acknowledge a silver tongue that slanders yearning or the edge of a cliff that reminds him of comfort (blue skin, red eyes, black hair, pale skin, green eyes,  _I love you, I love you, I love you_ ).

**And I held you closer…**


End file.
